Unfortunately, I did not catch The Fatales because I was under the impression of a cheeseburger. It was a messy romance, accompanied with beery glances and parsley-ed french fries, while my friends loved cheese (we ate here). Nor did I catch Jeffrey Lewis. Act III was no such denouement but Kevin Devine and some peoples on stage. They had an enjoyable enough sound, though he unfortunately had that conor oberts bleating quality of the voice. Then, while thanking the audience, he said something to the effect of "it's great to see that we can come together for good things/awareness/etc. while we are privileged, white, somethingsomething, something." I got kinda lost at "white" cuz I was too busy swivelling about to see if my friends and I (nonwhite) still existed and whether there was some strange reflection from a nonexistent strobe light making eeeeverybody's faces all pasty and pale. Despite the fact that this was Williamsburg, there was a smattering of other colors. I folded my arms grimly and forced him and his crew off the stage with the sheer power of my kimchee-american eyes.

Then came Stars, and they were great and fun. grun, with much dancing and jumping and posing – the grun rock-star kind, not the snooty kind. I continued work on my "sucky dark blurry photos from various concerts" photography series, as you can very well see. And I learned that the band had its beginnings in Williamsburg before moving to Montreal (ooh la la, pamplemousse, grenouille, croissant) and vocalist Torquil, yeah that's his name, mentioned how much nicer the neighborhood's gotten but it still has shit all over the ground. This is true. Torquil also reminded me of a cross between this guy I know, Eminem, and Carlton with smaller dance moves. Hee. And it's always nice and rare to see a female doing real! things! in! a! band!

Here's an interview with Amy Millan. Talks a lot about Canada. If that's not incentive to read it, I dunno what is.